


Bedroom Hymns

by Anonymous



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, BDSM, Canon Asexual Character, Do Not Archive, Dom!Jonathan Sims, Gray-Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, I just wanted to write BDSM with an acedom, M/M, Martin is allo, Porn with (maybe) Plot?, Season 1, Sub!Martin Blackwood, This may or may not get finished in the future, This may or may not have plot in the future, Whatever Tim and Sasha are here, Written by someone grey ace, but here you go fandom, have some smut, i think, unbetad we kayak like Tim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:27:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28041651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It all started with a dream, and that sparked the interest. It seemed like Martin is interested, so... they're going to try this out.BDSM, DomAce!Jon, Sub!Martin. The Beholding's just trying to take care of its Archivist and showed him something... interesting.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 20
Kudos: 128
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully will get finished, but I wanted to post it anyway to see if there's interest. Title from Florence + The Machine because I can't think of anything else, lol.

Until now, Jon cannot decide if it was meant to be a good dream. He'd woken up slightly confused with a mess in his pants, and had sat there thinking for the next few minutes about where it came from and how… magnificent it all looked.

That doesn't mean he didn't _enjoy_ it, it's just that the ensuing awkwardness wasn't... Wasn't ideal.

Every time he sees Martin's hands cradle a cup of tea, or hand him a bottle of water, or even just type languidly on a keyboard… And today, Martin came in with a v-neck jumper instead of his usual turtle necks, and Jon cannot keep his eyes away from the length of his throat, and the way it bobs when Martin swallows.

Martin stands there, shuffling and blushing, asking, "Jon? Is there something on my face?"

"No, Martin. Pardon me. Ah, carry on."

Jon realises he knows how it feels like to pull on Martin's soft red curls, how his hands fit around Martin's wrists, how beautiful he looks wrapped in black rope, and he doesn't even talk to the man when he doesn't have to. 

"Oi, boss, you okay? You've been staring at that statement for a while. You called me in, remember?" Tim says, waving a hand in front of Jon's face.

"Oh, yes," Jon responds, blinking. "Sorry I'm a bit... Distracted, today."

"You? Distracted? Are you feeling well? You're all flushed and red. Told you you need to take better care of yourself."

Jon nods, and says softly, "yes Tim, thank you. I'll ah, thank you for your um, the work you've done, I'll send the next one over e-mail."

"Right boss," Tim answers. "Oh, by the way, Sasha and I are nipping down to Pret for lunch, you coming with? Martin already said no, he's brought some of his own food in today."

Martin's staying?

"Oh, no, Tim, thank you. I'm afraid I'm not feeling up for it. I'll eat in a while - I still have some instant noodles somewhere in my desk."

"Suit yourself Jon. Righto," Tim gave a two-finger salute as a goodbye, and left Jon there to wrestle with his thoughts. Everything keeps going back to that cursed _dream_.

Jon decides to satiate his curiosity. It's just him and Martin for an hour, and so he thinks to himself, why not? And so he walks out of the office, head high, heels clicking on the floor of the archive. He stops right behind Martin, who is scribbling furiously on a piece of paper as he slowly ate a sandwich.

"Martin," he drawls, and Martin jumps to attention in his seat, looking up at his boss.

"Oh J-jon! Sorry. It's lunch, and I was - have you eaten? I have another sandwich if you'd like some, it's just simple ham-cheese-lettuce and a lot of brown sauce which I know you-"

Jon puts a hand on Martin's shoulder, and the ginger man quiets. Jon smiles. Very responsive.

"I'd love a sandwich, Martin," he says. "You take such good care of me. You're a good...man." Jon almost bit his tongue, the word _boy_ hanging off his lips. That won't do. It's too much, too obvious.

Martin gives him a brisk nod, and blushes at his words. "R-right, yes, of course, no problem. Here," he hands Jon the sandwich, and Jon sits on the edge of Martin's table, and unwraps it slowly. It doesn't escape his attention that Martin's rapt stare is on his fingers as he slowly takes off the plastic wrap.

Jon bites into it, and lets out a moan. It isn't purely for show-it really is just that good. Jon realises that he hasn't done proper shopping in a while and his fridge is so empty even brown sauce tastes like heaven.

Martin laughs nervously, cheeks as red as his shock of hair. "I-it's just a sandwich, Jon."

"Yes, Martin, but I do enjoy it when you..." Jon pauses.

Is he?

Is he going to push?

Jon continues, " _serve_ , me."

Martin suddenly gets up, pushing his chair backwards. He drops his sandwich on the table, and nervously clenches his fists. He won't meet Jon's eyes.

"E-excuse me, Jon, I need to just - the loo- bye," Martin says hurriedly. He pulls down on his jumper, and Jon follows the movement, and smirks.

"Don't forget to wash your hands when you're done, _Martin_."

\---

Jon looks up from Martin's chair, and Martin stops right at the door of the office. A part of Jon is increasingly concerned with the other man's extremities - all blood seems to be pooling in his face, red as he is.

"J-jon. You're. You're still...here. I mean where else would you be, we're in the archives, this is where you work, in the institute, but I mean-"

"Martin," Jon says, and Martin instantly closes his mouth. "Come here." Martin nods nervously, and walks towards Jon.

Jon stands, and smiles. "Was it satisfying?"

"What?"

Jon gives him a knowing smile.

"Was it satisfying?"

"I don't know what you m-"

"Was it satisfying?" Almost a whisper now in its intensity, and Martin lowers his eyes, and nods yes. Jon claps once. "Good."

They stand there quietly as Jon considers. He barely knows Martin, beyond what he beauty he sees in his sleep, and... well, Jon has never felt the need for sex. He doesn't feel that sort of attraction either, and quite honestly prefers himself to anyone else. But there are days when there's an itch that starts right between his shoulder blades, like a tension he can't be rid of. And ever since he started seeing Martin's fantasies, Jon's felt trapped in his own skin, and there is a want he needs to take care of. Not to mention, his job has been tense lately, fraught with work that Elias piles on to him, statements that won't record properly on his computer, researches that won't pan out... Jon itches to be in proper control, to have everything settled the way he wills it to.

So he mentally shrugs and tells himself, why not? There is nothing to lose. When he started teasing Martin he knew it was the point of no return.

"Martin?" Jon asks, and hesitates. There is, of course, their positions. He's technically Martin's superior, and he doesn't want to take advantage. He needs to make this clear.

"Yes, Jon?" Martin still isn't meeting Jon's gaze.

"I have a question to ask you, but you have to understand that you can say no, and it will be between two consenting adults, and our work will have nothing to do with it."

Martin looks up in confusion this time, and Jon gives him a small smile. Take the plunge, Jon.

Take it.

"It would be my pleasure if you allow me to dominate you," Jon comes out with it. "Sex may or may not be on the table for me, but I will make sure I'd take care of you."

Martin's jaw falls, and he stares at Jon like he's grown three heads and a moustache. Jon raises and delicate finger and closes Martin's mouth. "I- um. I."

"I hope I didn't break you," Jon says in amusement, and Martin visibly gulps.

And he whispers, "yes, sir."

Jon's smile widens. "Thank you for the honor, Martin. Now," he leans in closer, and whispers into his new partner's ear. "Tell me what you want, Martin Blackwood."

"Everything you'd give me." Jon waits. "Sir."

"Better," Jon praises. "Do you know the stoplight system, Martin?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. We'll use that for now," Jon says. He glances up at the clock. "Ah, I believe lunch is almost over." He can hear Sasha and Tim coming down the hall, and so he turns to go back into his office. But before he leaves completely, he turns back to Martin, and says, "I'll see you later, Martin. Please wait here, after work." Then Jon steps out, gives Tim and Sasha a polite smile, and returns to his office.


	2. Chapter 2

For the first time in a long time, Jon finds that he cannot wait for the work day to end. He's been reading the same line in the recording for the past ten minutes, brain keeps stuttering on the word "kneel."

He puts the statement down and stops the tape recorder, and sighs.

His alarm rings.

End of work day.

He gets his things ready, slings his satchel on and smooths down his skirt, and makes sure his waistcoat is buttoned up properly.

Jon walks.

"See you tomorrow Jon," Sasha says, as she pulls Tim out of the office door. "Martin don't work too hard!" Tim gives Jon a wink and a wave goodbye and off the two went.

Jon nods at them, and he exhales. He's nervous.

Why is he nervous? This isn't the first time he's ever done this.

"Jon," Martin breathes as he approached.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," Martin says, but he doesn't move from his position. His hands are folded in his lap as he waited, backpack already on his back.

Jon offers his hand, and Martin takes it. "Then let's go."

Things are quiet on the tube. Martin sat almost stiffly beside Jon, and Jon's hand is on Martin's lap almost possessively. When Jon realises this, he moves his arm, but Martin catches it. Jon looks at Martin, but the man doesn't meet his gaze.

They haven't even started yet.

When the two arrived at Jon's flat, Jon sat Martin down on the couch and immediately took off to make some tea. He hands Martin a cuppa, and he sits across from the other who sips the tea almost delicately.

They are quiet, and Jon watches Martin, until the other man stutters: "I don't do scat! O-or watersports. Or anything permanent on my skin." Martin blushes, and he puts down the tea, who falls quiet.

"You're right, that's what we're here for. I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Martin," Jon says. "I just can't stop looking at you. You're so… so good. So beautiful."

"O-oh," Martin says, eyes still downcast. "Thank you."

"Well, on that subject, that make two of us," Jon continues. "I have a lengthier list that we can take a look at on a later date but… I don't think I can resist you any longer. Would it be all right if we do something, tonight? As a… that is, to see if we're compatible, if-"

"Yes," Martin answers almost immediately. "That… that works for me, too."

"Good. I'm glad we're on the same page. So if you're done with your tea, let me take it and then we'll begin."

\---

"Your color, Martin?"

"Green," Martin responds. Jon nods, and grabs a large pillow from his couch.

"Kneel for me, please. Then wait."

Martin stands there for a second, blinking. Kneel. He is meant to kneel. He scrambles to his knees, and sits on his heels, head down as he waits. He can hear the clicking of plates behind him, and Martin's… curious.

What does Jon have in mind for him?

He breathes in and out, trying to calm the anxiety that started to bloom in his gut. He hates it when his anticipation starts twisting like this, but he can't help himself. This is his first time with Jon, and his first session in a long while. He still isn't sure how he even got into this position in the first place (but he isn't complaining).

He keeps his eyes low on the floor, even as he feels Jon sit on the couch behind him.  
"Sorry to keep you waiting, but I realised we haven't eaten yet. I hope you like charcuterie," Jon says. Martin doesn't respond, and Jon raises his chin with a finger.

Martin looks up into Jon's face.

"Martin," he says earnestly. "I've seen you as yourself, speaking up when you need to at Tim and Sasha, and how the corner of your mouth twitches every time I… scold you, as if you want to say something in your defense." Jon pauses. "And I want to see that fire in you, even as you kneel for me."

Martin bites his lip.

He doesn't… he isn't sure what Jon means. He's always thought those were unwelcome in a submissive, but if his dom says so…

Martin nods. "I'll try, sir."

"Good," Jon says with a smile, and a small streak of pleasure zips up Martin's spine. "Now open your mouth."

Martin does so, and John feeds him a slice of cheese, followed by a grape. He feels Jon's fingers go through his hair, and he sighs, leaning against Jon's leg. Jon's fingers came again, this time with cheese rolled up in a slice of panchetta, and Martin takes it in his mouth, fingers and all. He sucks at them slowly, and looks up at Jon, who nods in approval. "You're allowed to take pleasure if I didn't say you couldn't."

They do this for a while, Jon just feeding him in between his own meal, and after a while, Martin feels full and content. Jon keeps digging gentle fingers into his curls, and Martin sinks deeper into himself and floats in a low buzz of pleasure.

"Beside me, Martin," Jon then instructs, and Martin automatically rises, and he sits on the couch beside Jon. Jon takes his cheek, and he says, "I'm going to kiss you. What's your colour?"

"Green, sir, very _green_ ," Martin replies, and Jon leans in.

And kisses him on the forehead gently.

Then on his eyelids. Then his cheeks, one and then the other, the tip of his nose. His ears, nibbling a little on the lobes of each one, and Martin moans a little. He could feel Jon's smile against his neck, and Jon then moves on to his throat. He licks the length of his neck, from the top of the collarbone up to his chin, and Martin shudders.

Then Jon moves to his lips. He started at the corner of Martin's mouth, then moves in slowly, until Martin could feel Jon's tongue against him, asking for permission. Martin, of course, lets him in.

Martin is very, very aware of the heavy stiffness in his lap. Jon moves in closer, and almost straddles Martin - and Martin realises that he can feel… well, nothing _substantial,_ in Jon's lap.

Martin pauses, tip of his tongue about to call 'yellow', when Jon notices. "Ah. I… I should have." Jon sits back. "I'm asexual, Martin. This - I. Don't be mistaken - I find pleasure in this, in what we do. It just doesn't always, if it even _does_ , result in an erection or a _want_ to have sex."

Oh.

All right.

Martin nods. "I'm still green," he says, and he could see Jon let out a nervous breath.

Jon pushes him against the arms of the sofa, and this time, he doesn't hold back.

Jon almost _attacks_ Martin's lips, hands on Martin's shoulders as he settles on top of Martin. Martin's hands instinctively go on Jon's hips, but Jon says, "No, hands down. You will take what you get, but your hands will remain _down_ , and you can't touch."

"Yes, sir," Martin responds, and Jon resumes.

Martin hasn't been snogged with this much enthusiasm since University.

And Jon _bites_. He checks in once, to which Martin responds with an enthusiastic "green! Green, green!", and then bites the meat of Martin's shoulder. He slowly unbuttons Martin's shirt as he asks for Martin's colour, and Martin groans another affirmative _green_ , and Jon goes down and bites his pec, and licks his right nipple.

Martin bites back a scream. Jon stops, and looks down at Martin disapprovingly. "What did I say?"

"Sir?"

"What did I tell you?"

Oh. His bitten off… oh. "I'm allowed to take pleasure if you didn't say I couldn't, sir."

"And all I said was that you're not allowed you use your hands."

"Yes, sir," Martin confirms, and he licks his lips.

Jon sits back, and rocks against the arousal in Martin's trousers, and Martin moans loudly. "That's better, but still, I have to… hm. I wasn't going to do this first time around, and was simply going to let you cum whenever you're ready, but - I think we'll have to try and last as long as possible. Can you do that for me, Martin?"

Martin nods back at Jon. "Yes, sir."  
"Colour?"

"Still - ah!" He yelps as Jon rocks again. "Green, green sir."

"Excellent," Jon gets up, and Martin mourns the loss of pressure on top of him. "Move, Martin, to the side. I will get under you."

Martin opens his mouth, about to point out something that he feels Jon should take note of, but Jon shushes him. "I'm stronger than I look, don't… don't think about that. Trust me."

Martin just nods, and something in his chest loosens. He lets go of a breath he doesn't know he was holding, and moves further down the couch. Jon gets comfortable in his position - he leans against the arm of the sofa with a thick cushion supporting him, and his legs are stretched out on the rest of the seat. "I want you to get off without touching yourself, against my legs. Hump them, rub against them - it's your choice. But you're not allowed to touch with your hands, and you can't - you can't do anything to my crotch. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

With a flourish, Jon waves at his legs, and Martin gets himself ready. He unzips his trousers, and - "No, no," Jon stops him.

Martin looks at his partner quizzically. Jon continues, "Trousers on and zipped up. You're cumming in them today."

Martin freezes. He doesn't think he can go home on the tube in cum-stained trousers.

"I will take care of you. I promise you'll have something to wear home in the morning," Jon says reassuringly, then pauses. "That is if you want to stay over?"

Martin smiles, and nods. He trusts Jon. "Green, sir."

"Carry on, then."


	3. Chapter 3

Martin makes himself as comfortable as he can on one of Jon's legs, and shuts his eyes. He starts his ministrations, at first, just slowly taking his time going up and down as he's trying to find the rhythm he needs. His hands scramble for purchase, not knowing where he's meant to put them, and he ends up clutching the side of Jon's couch as he goes as fast as he'd dared.

"Martin, look at me," Jon says, and Martin opens his eyes. Jon's eyes are dark, and he holds out one of his hands, which Martin clutches like a lifeline. He's biting his lip, and his hair had come out of his once-pristine ponytail. The skirt Jon wears is rucked up to the top of his thighs.

This is the first time Martin has seen Jon absolutely disheveled, and it is wonderfully hot.

Martin moves faster, and doesn't hold back his moans, and Jon can obviously tell, because his smile widens. Jon's hand goes to Martin's curls, and pets him. "Good boy, Martin. Tell me if you're close."

Martin nods. His pants are almost uncomfortably wet at this point, and he's just happy that he didn’t do anything idiotic today like go commando or else he would chafe quite badly. He clutches Jon's hand a little more, and rubs his cheek against Jon's thigh, just under where his skirt ends, and gives him a tentative lick.

Jon's breath hitches, and he clutches at Martin's hair. Martin yelps, and his cock twitches, and for a moment he thought he is going to lose it. "I'm - almost, it's-"

"Stop," Jon says, and Martin immediately pauses. He groans, and hooks a foot over the couch's arm on the other side to prevent himself from moving. "Good, Martin. Let's give it a minute, and we'll try and see how long you can last, since you seemed keen on holding back, weren't you? So let's hold back."

"But-"

Jon tugs at Martin's curls again, and Martin yelps. His cock twitches once more. "No buts. I gave one command, and you disobeyed - on your first day!" Jon leans over, and caresses Martin's face with the palm of his hand. "But don't worry - I won't punish you too much. It's your first day, after all, and I really should train you first, don't you think, Martin?"

Martin nods into Jon's thigh. He's just trying to control his breathing, trying to control his orgasm, trying to remain in control. Jon pats him again. "Are you trying to regain control of yourself, Martin?"

Martin nods again, and Jon chuckles above him. "Oh Martin," Jon says, and Martin looks up. "Don't try. I'm the one in control, and if I say it, so will it be. And you will not cum, not yet, even if I-" Jon's legs move under him, and Martin cries out. "-do this. I think it's time you start up again."

And Martin does. And he's soaked, and he won't be surprised if there's a large wet spot on his trousers at this point. "I'm - I'm getting there, sir."

"Stop," Jon commands once more. Martin pauses, breathing hard. Jon leans down, and with surprising flexibility, kisses his forehead. "So good, Martin. So wonderful, so beautiful."

Martin whimpers. "Sir, please," he says. He knows, he knows it hasn't been long, but this feels beyond what he can give tonight. "Please, I need-"

"So soon, Martin?"

"I have - you are, Jon, I, you're Jon, how can I hold back?"

Martin has never seen Jon smile this much until now. "That's a lovely thing to say, Martin, thank you. And so you may."

"I may cum, sir?"

"Yes, cum for me."

Martin clutches at Jon's hand, and it only takes him a few seconds until he comes with a cry. He pants against Jon, who gives him a loving pat. "Come up here?" Jon says softly, and Martin does so.

Jon gives him a chaste kiss on the lips. "Thank you, Martin. You're so good for me. You're so good."

"Thank you, sir. Thank you for letting me come."

Jon kisses him again. Jon stands for a bit, and an involuntary whine comes from Martin at the loss of contact. "I just need to get you some electrolytes, and I promise I'll be back to cuddle. And I'll go grab you something to change into, as well."

Martin nods, and when Jon comes back, he has a large robe with him, and a glass of orange juice. "Drink up."

Martin finishes his glass, and Jon nods in approval. Martin then strips, wincing at the feeling of the garter against his sensitive crotch, and Jon is there immediately to wipe him down. "I'll put this in the wash later. But for now," Jon kisses him again, almost lazily, and they make out for a while on the couch. "Let's go to the bedroom and rest."

\---

Martin's asleep in Jon's bed, in Jon's oversized robe. Jon pauses by the bed and watches him sleep. He looked rather peaceful, serene, not like the man he sees at work who always seems profoundly unsure and anxious.

He needs to treat this man much, much better than he does.

Jon sighs, and grabs Martin's clothes on his way to the washing machine. As he stands there, waiting for the cycle to end, he thinks about what they've started, and how far Jon wants this to go. He thinks of the look on Martin's face as he humps Jon's leg like a dog, the sound of rapture from his lips as he comes.

Beautiful. Just so beautiful. He's never seen anything quite as beautiful in his life. And he was so good, even as he tries to speak against Jon with a single word, and as he begs for his orgasm… even the way he licks and sucks at Jon's fingers as they ate.

Martin is perfect, and Jon knows what he wants this to last as long as it possibly can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End for this session! Stay tuned for... quite possibly more, honestly. But I'll put this one as 'finished', for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave comments please? heh.


End file.
